


Embarrassing Adventures of Takuto Maruki

by GreyPigeon



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Counselling, Domesticity, Fellatio, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Handcuffs, Humor, Kinky sex, Maruki is such a goof and does NOT know how to flirt, Multi, Penetrative Sex, Ren is a little shit and is horny on main, Riding Crop, Takemi rules, Yusuke uses sex as a safety gauge and is clueless, attempt at comedy, gay relationship in the background, self-care, striptease
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:29:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25188718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyPigeon/pseuds/GreyPigeon
Summary: When Ren notices how much counselling helps his boyfriend to put himself back together, a wave of gratitude comes over him and he conjures up a wicked and frankly immoral plan to play matchmaker and reward the Doc with an experience he will never, ever forget. [Maruki/Takemi, sauce in ch2, Yusuke/Akiren in the background.]
Relationships: Amamiya Ren/Kitagawa Yusuke, Kitagawa Yusuke/Kurusu Akira, Kitagawa Yusuke/Persona 5 Protagonist, Takuto Maruki/Tae Takemi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	Embarrassing Adventures of Takuto Maruki

**Author's Note:**

> There is def not enough Takuto content out there. It pleases me to improve that balance. Dude seriously needs to get laid, so I’m getting straight to the point with this  
> [EDIT: Nope! I seem to be unable to write one-shots! Shite. Also, the title took the longest to come up with.]

**~*~**

Ren had to thank Maruki. Seriously. He needed to thank him for real. 

He couldn’t believe what it was he saw over a span of a single month of regular therapy. With simple and effective breathing exercises to help with his sleep and anxiety, as well as a series of absolutely basic tips of how to establish a safe routine, around which he had built his day, Yusuke was positively looking better. 

Obviously, he did not suddenly get over years of abuse and his abandonment issues. But he at least stopped digging the proverbial hole he was sitting in and that was progress in itself. He settled for solid seven hours of sleep and forced himself to eat at least three meals a day (on most days, that is) and Maruki involved everyone in checking, so Yusuke had no option than to stick to the discipline he himself had set. He started journaling after every therapy session and implemented a system of small rewards for completing tasks, reluctantly allowing himself to feel good about the quality of his work (sometimes). Ren had no idea what exactly were they discussing during counselling and what words the doctor used to get him back up on his feet - but whatever they were, Maruki’s words worked better than Ren’s, and Yusuke started to acknowledge his own needs finally. 

And Ren was happy, because acknowledging said needs very often led to him offering Yusuke support. And by support Yusuke didn’t mean holding hands or cuddling. He meant sex. 

That seemed to be his stress release valve; sex. Attentive, elaborate, prolonged, intimate, _loud_ sex. Ren had to replace a couple of milk crates underneath his makeshift bedframe because they simply cracked and could not hold their weight anymore.

...Ren deemed it only fair to repay Maruki with similar currency. _The man deserves some happiness,_ a thought crossed Ren’s mind as he absentmindedly fidgeted with a lock of his black hair; he was watching Yusuke exercise out of the corner of his eye. Just a few very basic stretches after he had finished painting for the day. It was a no-brainer, really, to lay on the floor for five minutes and do ten, fifteen repetitions - and the difference was immediate, noticeable as soon as the third day. Yusuke's back and shoulder muscles relaxed a bit, and in the absence of pain, his mood improved too. 

“I know you’re watching me,” the artist said in a cheeky tone. Ren snickered and returned to the book he pretended to be reading. 

Yusuke got up after a while and appraised his unfinished painting once again. He shook his head, not entirely happy, but nevertheless resolved to stop for today. He turned to his boyfriend, still sitting at the desk, and approached him slowly; he leaned down to drape himself over Ren’s shoulders and bury his face in a crook of his neck.

“Don’t you think you cut it a bit short today?” Ren asked, unfazed. 

“I know a couple of activities we can do together to make up for it.” Yusuke mumbled with his lips on Ren’s neck; his pale hand started to sneak down Ren's chest, it’s destination obvious. “There are certain endurance exercises or weight lifting…”

“Weight lifting, aha. You want me to fuck you against the wall?” Ren arched an eyebrow dangerously.

“...Well, the bed’s broken.”

Ren growled, feeling his muscles contract at the thought of lifting Yusuke up by his thighs and slamming his back on the wall. He doubted he could hold him up like that for longer than a couple of minutes, but maybe they could do it on the desk instead… Ren would push him down at some point so that he would lay on his back on the lumpy wood with his backside still hanging in the air, and Ren would plunder his asshole like the Romans did with Carthage. Gosh, he really needs to thank Maruki. Maybe he should buy him flowers. 

“...Nevermind the bed. Come here. I'll teach you how to do a split.” 

Yusuke chuckled, and Ren couldn’t help melting a little inside. He had such a pleasant, melodic chuckle. They discovered it only recently. 

_Oooh, I know_ , Ren’s brain suddenly sparked with an idea once his mouth was busy marking a wet, bitey path across Yusuke’s chest; _I will hook him up with Takemi._ _That could work, she complained lately about a significant deficiency of date material in sight… And it should serve as a proper reward for him... She will turn him into a goo, reduce him to drool and unconditional reflexes with her eyes only and fuck his brains out so hard he will be walking on sunshine for two weeks straight. OK, that’s a plan. That’s a damn good plan._

**~*~**

And so it happened, that - by a complete accident, of course - doctor Maruki stumbled on Tae Takemi during a friendly coffee with Ren in the city centre. It was the first time he saw her, but it wasn't the first time she saw him. 

Ren made sure to mention the counsellor briefly before during a medical trial, as he was resting on the exam table, fighting with nausea after administering another dose of the experimental drug. In fact, the side effects were not that bad at all, but Ren cheated expertly, feigning the cramps and dizziness like a champ. He had tricked a slightly worried Takemi into sitting there with him for an hour while listening to him babble about school life and how Yusuke is doing these days, and he even forced her to go through the photos of his cat on his phone. There was one significant photograph of Morgana nuzzling the chin of a certain embarrassed psychologist, looking absurdly cute in his slightly baggy lab overcoat and with an even cuter bedhead. This photograph had cost Ren a 500 g pack of high-end medium fat tuna and a lot, a LOT of whining.

Ren steered the conversation into medical field quite expertly, and they seemed to connect on this level pretty easily, but Maruki, the complete goof that he was, spilt the coffee all over the table and his beige pants for good measure. Ren could not really blame him, given the fact that Takemi was dressed in the shortest mini dress in existence and thigh-high leather heels, looking simply stunning, but nevertheless, that was a situation Ren could not rectify with any amount of small talk. Takemi rolled her eyes and said goodbye with a condescending “Take care of your teacher, Amamiya-kun...”

They did not exchange contact info.

**~*~**

_This is gonna be a hard cookie to crack, after all_ , Ren concluded, balls deep in his boyfriend. Yusuke was splayed underneath him on the futon in his Kosei dorm room, perspiring heavily and panting, giving out a stream of sweet pleading nonsense that was like ambient in Ren’s ears. But oh, he was gonna crack that cookie. He was SO going to crack it. 

He felt the glasses slip from the bridge of his nose, so he took them off sharply and ran a hand across his forehead to wipe the sweat off. Yusuke whined at the sight.

“I adore those g-glasses,” he moaned, and his hands shot up to yank at Ren’s hair. “They make you… ah... look o-older…”

“You like older men? Oh, I didn’t know that. Naughty art twink,” Ren smirked.

“What’s a twink?... Oh, ah! There! Like this!” Yusuke started to pat the mattress rhythmically with his hand. 

“I’ll tell you later,” Ren laughed deep in his chest, tossing his head back and focusing on systematically hitting Yusuke’s sweet spot, time and again, until the artist could not speak coherently anymore. How could Ren not be the happiest guy in the world? He _loved_ to feel this, he _loved_ to watch him, he was absolutely elated to make love to his beloved, fragile, genius artist who had no idea how to use Urban Dictionary and was oblivious to the ways of the world.

Aargh, he really had to thank Maruki.

On his way home Ren kept rolling six different scenarios in his head, almost missing his train stop. Anyway, he concluded that in any case, he needed backup.

“...What?! No way! That’s just not gonna work!” Morgana yelled, all claws and fury, “Besides, I am done helping you with this depravity! It’s enough that I have to sleep at Futaba’s place all the time now! Count me out!”

“Morgana, you’re the only person I can do it with,” Ren stopped pacing through the room and turned to him abruptly. “I really need your help here. And besides, it’s not for free! I’ll get you as much sushi as you want. Please...?”

Mona did not admit he agreed only because Ren has called him a ‘person’. 

**~*~**

That morning Ren waited patiently until Takemi parks her Beetle and disappears in the entrance of the clinic. He sneaked quietly to the back of the car and stuck a middle-sized potato into the exhaust pipe, effectively blocking it. Making sure no one had seen him, he got out of there pronto and happily texted Maruki, inviting him over to LeBlanc for coffee and curry, for around five o’clock, insisting that there is something reeeaaaally important they need to discuss. He knew Takemi would be closing around six.

Maruki did show up, of course; they talked a little about life and stuff, but mostly they focused on Maruki’s research and he seemed to be happy enough with their little chat. Ren offered to walk him up to the station then.

Walking past Takemi’s clinic, they heard a sudden clangor of metal, the sound of something falling on the ground with impetus and a stream of nasty curses, echoing through the alley walls. The geezer owner of the flea market hid inside the shop, hastily taking the cushioned stool with him, and a stray cat meowed in panic, running away. Takuto whipped his head to see what that was all about, and saw a very angry Takemi standing above her car, the hood lifted and the doors flung open, in obvious distress. 

“Impossible piece of junk! I should have scrapped you a long time ago! I promise this time I WILL!” She kicked the side of the Beetle, denting the fender, and her high heel broke. “Oh, the HOLY FUCK!”

“Just… let me help,” Takuto said loudly, running to her side and setting his briefcase down on the pavement. He lifted both hands in the air as if to show her he has no weapon, and she shot him a surprised look, wobbling on her single extremely high heel; she seemed to recognize him. In her shock, she even allowed him to catch her hand - in a courteous effort to help her regain her balance. _Yes, yes, yes_ , Ren grinned like a madman and approached sloooowly, watching the two exchange hesitant, appraising glances.

“You know anything about cars?” Takemi asked, clearly not convinced, foregoing any pleasantries. Maruki rolled up the sleeves of his blue shirt and smiled at her politely.

“I know enough to be able to help you with it,” he said, taking a closer look at the engine and reaching to adjust something. Ren appeared by his side, saying a quick hello to Takemi and leaning over the car too. 

“I’m not so sure,” Takemi groaned. “He has died on me before, two weeks ago.” 

“It’s a ‘he’, huh…?” A smile. “Well, we’ll get him up and running, I don’t think it’s terminal,” Maruki smirked, checking the car battery. “Have you ever, um… changed the oil, maybe…?” 

Takemi gave him a look that could freeze the Baikal over. Maruki nodded and got back to work.

“Can I be of any assistance?” Ren asked, and just then a black slurp of oil or some other car gunk decided to shoot at them from the mysterious entrails of the car engine, covering the front of Maruki’s shirt up from his chin to the belt in black strings of grease. Shit. So there was something seriously wrong with Takemi’s car, anyway, Ren thought. What a coincidence.

“Actually, yes,” Maruki smiled, adjusting his glasses and leaving a smear on the tip of his nose. “I’m going to need some tools here, Amamiya-kun. Can you ask Sōjirō-san if he has a spanner, size 16?” 

...Using the commotion, Morgana snatched the potato out of the tailpipe and rolled it out of sight. 

Fixing the car took a better part of the hour, during which Ren was running around with various tools and utensils and Takemi was observing the stranger fuss and fret about the engine with growing interest. They were perfectly capable of holding a nice, lightweight conversation, and though Takuto was clumsy at best - dropping various items and ruining his tie beyond repair, when it got stuck in between car parts - he was a very good listener and his kind laughter seemed infectious. Takemi propped herself on the side of the Beetle and watched his movements like a hawk, appraising his mop of wild, thick locks, his compulsive tick of fiddling with his glasses, indicating poor eyesight, his nervous, soft hands making quick work with some valves and bolts. And then her eyes wandered... well, lower. Briefly. 

_Oh my God, she looked at his dick,_ Ren realized, jumping up like he was zapped. _She totally checked out his dick. Shit, this is working,_ Ren realized, going red. He hid in LeBlanc before they noticed. 

“I believe that should do it,” Maruki said finally, wiping his hands in a rag and smiling at her behind his glasses. “I mean, there are still some issues with it, but you should be able to start it now. Care to give it a try?”

Takemi sat behind the wheel and turned the ignition, and the engine roared as if nothing ever happened. She shook her head in disbelief and smiled at Takuto. Very, very nicely.

“If you want, I could take a look at the... remaining, erm, stuff,” he said eloquently, watching her get out of the car and approach him on those kilometer-long legs. “It’s a lovely vintage car, should still serve you a long time, it only needs some lo— um, erm, I mean, ma-maintenance.”

“I couldn’t possibly impose like that.” Tae smiled, encroaching on his personal space, tilting her head to the side. Maruki swallowed visibly.

“But it’s no problem, really, and a really relaxing thing to do. I like fixing things.” 

“And people, given your profession.”

Maruki took a deeper breath, laying both hands on the hood, which he closed slowly. He looked pensive for a moment.

“People are... infinitely more difficult and complex than a car. This is all cause and effect, a question of adjustments or replacing some parts, and then it all works just fine. With a car, I feel quite confident.” He blinked fast. “So if you want that oil changed, I’m your man,” he dodged and flashed her a smile. 

Takemi gave him a long, strange look. 

“Well, let me at least repay your kindness somewhat and give you a lift home,” she said in a low voice. “You can’t go on a train like that, your shirt is ruined because of me. And your tie.”

“Ruined?” Maruki asked, surprised, lifting the end of the tie to assess the damage. “Nah, I’m just going to wash it and it’ll be fine… no?” He stopped, seeing her amused expression, hesitated.

“It’s a silk tie. A delicate garment. This won’t come off, not entirely,” she smiled. It was patronizing, but there was something else there too, shining in her eyes.

“Oh,” Takuto stared at the tie for a while. “Well. Um.” He scratched the back of his head, and she could see on his face how he’s trying not to get upset at himself. “That’s fine. It’s just a tie.”

“You liked this tie.”

“So I did, but… it’s a small price to pay for being able to help.” He said calmly. “I gather that the shirt goes to the bin too?”

“Well… try to get most of the grease out with butter… and wash separately,” Takemi raised both eyebrows in a fond, warm expression and then leaned in to her other shoe, which was still intact. With a harsh, forceful movement she broke the heel. Takuto’s mouth fell slightly agape. 

“I need to be able to drive,” she smiled. “Come on. I’ll take you home. You wasted enough time on my account, and it will be faster than commuting.”

“Thank you, Takemi-san,” he said with a smile, collecting his briefcase and getting in.

“Just Tae is fine.”

Ren watched them drive off from the window in his attic, showing all teeth in a predatory smile. Morgana groaned and shook his head.

“Did you see how she looked at him?” Ren wheezed a satisfied laughter and made a victorious gesture. “She wants the D, Morgana. Dr. Legs wants Maruki’s dick, and she’s coming for it,” he announced.

“I swear if you don’t stop doing this I am moving out,” Morgana groaned. “You are just a horny, stupid teenager, groggy on testosterone, such a letdown!”

“Aaaaah, but you don’t think that about me at all.”

“You were the chosen one...!”

“Morgana, I have to thank the guy, I won’t be able to work, rest or truly enjoy life until I do,” Ren tickled the cat maliciously.

“You could have just bought him a fountain pen! A nice book! Or cufflinks!”

“He is bound to have those things already, and I wanted it to be special! And Tae Takemi sure is special,” Ren said in a dreamy voice. “She’ll make him feel so good that his socks will roll off and fold themselves nicely. Do you know what she’ll do? She will blindfold him with that stupid tie, straddle the guy while still wearing those ridiculous high heels, then she’ll take out his…”

“I’m not listening to you! I’m not listening at all!” Morgana stuck his cat paws into his cat ears in panic and bristled like a hedgehog, when Ren kept muttering things to his ear, “I don’t hear it, nanananana! NANANANA!” And he bolted.

**~*~**

_Beep beep._

Ren glanced at his phone briefly when pouring frothed milk into the coffee cup; Takemi. He snatched the cell as soon as he was done serving the customer.

**Tae: [Hello, Guinea Pig. Are you up to doing a trial today?]**

Ren replied immediately, counting on gathering some intel.

**Ren: [Sure. I’ll show up in a couple of hours, I’m helping Sōjirō now.]**

**Tae: [Great. I’ll have a favour to ask of you as well. See you then.]**

The favour turned out to be a small, flat, elegant box tied with a thin navy bow; Takemi asked him to hand it over to Maruki the next time he visits LeBlanc. 

...he wouldn’t be a Phantom Thief, or indeed himself, if he didn’t take a small sneak peak to prove his suspicions and further the development of this soon-to-be-romance. Disregarding a screeching Morgana, yelling something nonsensical about the secrecy of correspondence, Ren put the box on his desk and unpacked it meticulously, so that he would be able to redo it.

She bought him a tie, he realized with a hum, a beautiful, pure silk tie with a pretty dotted pattern on it; handmade, too. Must have costed some sum. There was a handwritten thank you note, Ren assumed because he wasn’t as mean as reading what she personally wrote to Maruki. He contemplated throwing in her business card, so that the Doc would get a clue and be able to call her, but there was a row of numbers on the back of the elegant blue cardstock, so that was covered. Ren’s glasses glinted menacingly; his job here was done. 

Pleased with himself, he reached out the phone and punched in Yusuke’s number.

“Hey, beautiful. What are you doing right now?”

 _“People watching,”_ Yusuke replied. _“I have several sketches to complete, and the dorm was annoying me.”_

“The noise?”

 _“That too. My neighbour is throwing a party.”_ Yusuke’s voice was downcast. _“It smells of weed in the whole corridor, I couldn’t concentrate for the love of me.”_

“Ah right, it's Friday... Well, you can’t sleep there tonight, then,” Ren said slowly, feeling his pulse raising. “Come over to LeBlanc.”

_“Ren, I am a bit behind, I really have to focus on these...”_

“Oh, excuse me, did I stutter? I forbid you from going back to the dorm,” Ren barked into the receiver in a low voice, authoritarian and sultry at the same time. “...Besides. If you are behind with work, it is only my duty to help you focus on it properly, is it not...? It seems to me you are in need of… correction, and I have my ways of enforcing proper discipline.” 

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. Yusuke was digesting.

“...If you want me to come and get you, I will, but it will be so much worse for you, Yusuke. I will throw you over my knee on the station, pull your pants down, spank you in front of all those people and drag you by the scruff here to this attic for causing me an inconvenience.” 

Yusuke swallowed loudly. Silence. _Aaah shit, he didn’t get it._

_“...Eeeerm, Ren?...”_

Ren laughed sincerely.

“It’s called roleplay, alright? Stay in character. You’re a wide-eyed juvenile delinquent, put on probation for vandalism and spraying graffiti, and I’m your strict probation officer.” Ren explained. “...Just come over. I miss you.” 

Yusuke scoffed on the other end. 

_“I’m on my way, then,”_ a pause. _“...officer, Sir.”_

**~*~**

Takuto was overthinking it over the course of three long days and three long nights, but he did finally decide to text Takemi. He figured it would only be a necessary courtesy to reciprocate with his own phone number, just in case she really wanted his help with the Beetle. He would be all too happy to fix the car for her, especially that such quaint vintage rides were always his preferred choice; he would get one himself if he could afford it. So fixing the Volkswagen for her would be great. He could totally imagine a nice afternoon outside, spent on fitting new spark plugs, getting some sun with a can of beer, maybe. Or two. He would make sure to dress for the occasion, though. _Idiot_.

So, motivated by a possibility of getting his hands on Takemi’s car again, he composed an elegant message in which he thanked her for the gift, expressed his worry for the pricing of the tie and assured her that though the gift was completely unnecessary because it was a genuine pleasure to be able to help the lady, it is very much appreciated. Next he reminded her that he is more than willing to take care of the Beetle and wished her a good evening.

**Takemi-san: [Show me the tie.]**

Maruki was dumbfounded. Oh OK, maybe she really needs a proof that it’s him, not some random stranger. Seemed a little excessive, after all, he made it clear that he knew about her car and all, but hey. She’s just careful. He snapped a photo of his unpacked gift and clicked send.

**Takemi-san: [...On you, silly.]**

_...What._

And thus began embarrassing adventures of Maruki the Counsellor, who had no idea for two days straight what it is exactly that Takemi was trying to do, provoking him like that. Luckily he witnessed a couple of girls in the Shujin corridor during recess, giggling about something displayed on their phones, and overheard the actual term he had been missing in his vocabulary. God, he was a shitty counsellor. He should be far more familiar with the dangers and challenges that the kids were facing these days, how they were spending their free time. Well, not only kids. Some adults too, apparently. And though he did not find the idea of participating in it particularly repulsive, he had next to no idea how to do it and he was way too ashamed to ask Amamiya-kun for advice on sexting.

Thankfully, Takemi caught on the real cause of him being so weirdly mis-responsive and slowed down to the pace he was comfortable with. Apparently she was willing to compromise.

She extended an invitation first. They met for coffee - twice - then for drinks in Shinjuku. Then Takemi got frustrated and backed off, but Ren convinced her to give the poor bastard a chance; he caught on to that himself, miraculously, and after much internal struggle invited her out to dinner and a movie. She agreed. 

Standing in front of the mirror, Maruki debated with himself whether to wear the tie she bought him or not; he had changed three times already. Finally, he left it as it was, one of his old ties he had bought for himself after receiving his first paycheck, to be able to look more presentable, to show respect for the job; he hoped it doesn’t make him look as pathetic as he felt. Clutching the small bouquet of blue and white hydrangeas in his hands he asked himself for the hundredth time what it was he actually wanted out of this, and if it really was the mysteries of the engine of Takemi’s Beetle. 


End file.
